


sailing birds and sunlight

by idaate



Series: sinking birds and starlight [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, No one dies dw, alternative universe, or after reading the first fic in the series, you can read this by itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idaate/pseuds/idaate
Summary: He’s got money, and that’s about it.There’s money in his pocket and money on his clothes and money in his food and house and in him. When something goes wrong, the solution is money. It’s all that he can see, all that he can feel, and all that he knows.Money is an excuse that his father gives when Yuri wants attention. “Get yourself something pretty,” he says, and Yuri does.Money is something his mother hates. “People care about that paper more than they do other people, our feelings.” She holds his cheek at 7 years old, weaving her fingers through golden locks that shine like stars (or so she says). “You can’t put a price tag on a person’s life or emotions. Never forget that, zvyozdochka.”





	

He’s got money, and that’s about it.

There’s money in his pocket and money on his clothes and money in his food and house and in  _ him _ . When something goes wrong, the solution is money. It’s all that he can see, all that he can feel, and all that he knows.

Money is an excuse that his father gives when Yuri wants attention. “Get yourself something pretty,” he says, and Yuri does.

Money is something his mother hates. “People care about that paper more than they do other people, our feelings.” She holds his cheek at 7 years old, weaving her fingers through golden locks that shine like stars (or so she says). “You can’t put a price tag on a person’s life or emotions. Never forget that,  _ zvyozdochka. _ ”

 

(Yuri doesn’t, but the thought grows foggy with time)

 

He can’t even open his eyes but already, through his lids, he can see red and red and blue and blue lights  _ flashing  _ like fireworks. All he wants to do is sleep, but it sure sucks to be him because there’s someone shaking him, asking if he’s alright.

After several seconds of groaning, he opens his eyes and wishes he hadn’t.

There’s someone in his face but he can’t look at them, not when his mother is painted red and sitting in the car seat beside him, a face that should be shining like the sun so  _ cold  _ and  _ gone. _

Suddenly, Yuri can’t get out of the car fast enough and his stomach is hurling, dying the ground red and yellow while a foreign hand rubs his back, touching his  _ hair.  _

If he could speak, he’d swear for the first time.

 

(he hates people touching his hair, they’re not her they don’t deserve to do that they don’t they don’t they don’t)

 

Barely a year after a car accident and already, his father is at his wit’s end. He uses money as an excuse once again to hire a tutor, to hire  _ Victor Nikiforov. _

He’s heard of Victor in the news, the genius in both ice skating and in school, speaking twelve languages by 21 and graduating college early. The whole package. Yuri’s supposed to be impressed, probably, but all that comes to mind is the fact that there’s more paper everywhere.

But Victor’s different than Yuri imagined, though, with an idiotic grin and a passion that makes Yuri wonder what’s driving the grey haired buffoon. “Why’d you hire him?!” He yells at his father, but the man simply sighs tiredly over a stack of documents and rubs the space between his eyes.

“He’ll be good for you,” Is his excuse, “you need a far better father figure than me in your life, wouldn’t you agree?”

Yuri wholeheartedly does.

 

(once he almost asks, once he almost comes right out and demands an answer as to why Victor can be so  _ happy,  _ so  _ free,  _ but courage fails him.)

 

The money begins to stuff bottles that stuff his father’s mouth, and suddenly Yuri dreads going home even more than before in case there’s a stench lingering outside his father’s room. It’s not like his father actually  _ does  _ anything, but it’s perhaps the media and the stories that Yuri’s heard of people becoming like...like  _ that  _ that scare him.

So he begins to not go home anymore.

He doesn’t do anything dangerous, back home by 11 with a halo around his head, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone, away from the money and the lessons and the need to be  _ perfect. _

Out here, it’s every man for himself if you’re caught in a knife fight and it doesn’t  _ matter  _ if you’ve got money - if anything, that makes you so much more susceptible, so much more open for attack, which makes him excited. 

A world where his father wouldn’t be at the top, but, instead, at a disadvantage...

 

(...if such a world exists, Yuri wants to be a part of it)

 

One day, he sees Victor skate.

It’s by chance that he stumbles upon the ice rink, it’s by chance that he sees the man float across the ice like an angel, like a  _ god.  _ There’s a feeling around Victor that makes Yuri so insufferably  _ jealous  _ of another person, and it’s a strange feeling considering that there are so many other people would would love to be choked by money like he is. The entirety of this situation should be flipped upside down and turned around.

For a moment, he isn’t quite sure what he’s seeing, if this is some sort of fever dream or something of the like _._ It’s night and the starlight is a spotlight on the man, all the attention of the not quite midnight city noises an orchestra and suddenly Yuri wants nothing more than--

“Make me just like you.”

If Victor’s surprised by seeing him here, it doesn’t show. “Is that really something you want?” He hums, and it infuriates Yuri. 

“Of course! You’re gettin’ paid by Pops, aren’t you? To teach me. So, teach.”  _ Pops.  _ The word tastes like acid on his tongue, and suddenly he’s tempted to vomit like he’s in a car all over again but he holds it back in his throat, glaring death at the man instead.

Victor’s laugh makes Yuri want to stab him. “And I’m sure your father would love to know what you’re doing out here as well, hm?”

He scowls, but Victor continues.

“For you, I’ll do it, but not because you asked.”

Victor obliges, and Yuri uses money like his father does.

 

(he has no idea how to feel about it)

 

He’s stolen Victor’s motorcycle sometimes, the sleek shape and it’s rumble beneath his body making him feel so on top of the world it’s unreal. Almost like ice skating, except he’s no god and no one can see him laugh so freely. Ice skating is being the center of the universe, but on a motorcycle, he’s forced to be a part of it.

Victor knows, he  _ know  _ he knows, but that doesn’t stop Yuri from doing what he does.

So when Victor announces that he’s going to be gone for a year because he’s going to Japan, Yuri is on him in an instant, tongue thrashing and eyes flashing, but Victor sedates him with a gift (even though they  _ both  _ know that he doesn’t need gifts, he can pay for them himself with all the money he has).

“Keep the motorcycle. It’s yours now.” He says with a wink. “Keeping so many secrets isn’t healthy, you know.”

He punches Victor in the arm, but the man only laughs and plugs in his phone number on Yuri’s phone, promising to ‘keep in touch’ despite the six hour time difference.

 

(he titles Victor’s name to ‘old man’ in his phone with a middle finger emoji and begins to learn Japanese)

 

He still practices when Victor isn’t there, he doesn’t need the instruction of an angel to become one himself (or that’s what he says). It’s the only thing that keeps him going during his fifteenth Summer, the only thing that gives him a breath of fresh air amid the stifling heat.

The feeling of jumping and falling becomes addicting, almost, with the hard, cold ice waking him up and screaming in his head as he pulls himself up with bruises on his elbows and a grin on his face. The ice doesn’t care if you’ve got money or not - if you suck, you suck and you’re going to feel the non-deadly equivalent of death’s kiss in your bones.

It’s during this time that death kisses his phone, shattering the screen into a million pieces like ice itself and Yuri can only just _ barely _ read the words on his screen anymore with the way that it looks. He can easily repair it with the money stuffed in his pockets, the issue isn’t that big in that department, but the thought of using his father’s money again…

Does it make him sick? Does it  _ really? _

(he opts not to repair the phone for some stupid poetic whim anyway, lifting up the shattered glass to the light and scoffing in disgust as the glass reflects the sun like stars)

 

It’s less than a week after the broken phone incident that he comes home and the stench of alcohol is strong in his room, strong enough to make him wanna  _ puke.  _ But he doesn’t - instead, he gags as he steps inside and finds his father holding up one of his two pairs of ice skates (the other of which is hidden behind Yuri’s back).

“What’s this.” His speech is heavy, slurred, and Yuri takes a step back.

“Just a trinket.” He sneers. “Something I stumbled upon. Nothing that you should worry yourself about.”

“I can buy you anything, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Yuri grimaces.

“Where have you  _ been.”  _ It’s more of a statement than a question.

“Out.”

“Where?”

“Just out and about, sheesh. Mind your own fuckin’ business.”

All too suddenly there’s a fist bunching up in the hem of his shirt and alcohol breath up his nose and he’s  _ screaming  _ at him, Yuri knows he is, with the way the world is spinning and his own blond hair dancing in front of his eyes as his father feels behind his back and pulls out the  _ other  _ pair of skates. There’s a brief pause in it all, a sputtered act of indignance and there’s more  _ prodding,  _ more  _ demands,  _ more  _ questions _ as he tearfully asks Yuri not to  _ leave him hasn’t he dealt with enough at this point _ and  _ why does she look so much like his wife _ . Why would his  _ zvyozdochka  _ abandon him, after all. He’s  _ angry,  _ he’s  _ yelling _ , he’s  _ crying _ \--

But Yuri cannot hear a thing.

 

(he doesn’t even know what his father said)

 

For once, he’s thankful for the money stuffing his pocket as sixty four thousand rubles exchange from his hands to the hands of the flight attendant in front of him. She’s old, far older than the ‘old hag’ Victor, and with the absolute voice of death urges him to ‘have a nice flight!’ as he steps onto the plane.

He doesn’t have the energy to stay awake for the flight, and after placing the only thing that he even  _ bothered  _ to bring with him (a backpack filled to the brim with bills taken more out of spite than anything else) into the little carry-on cubby provided to him, Yuri finds himself drifting off to sleep next to a man with grease covering his brow.

He’s half convinced that the flight’s just taking off when he wakes up, but no - they’re landing in ‘Hiroshima, Japan’ as the pilot’s voice says in monotone, and after grabbing his things he’s off.

He knows that Victor is living  _ somewhere _ from images on Instagram and idiotic poses in front of statues, and that’s his guide. Fuck if he knows  _ where  _ in Japan those statues are, (he probably should’ve done just a smidge more research when trying to figure out the man’s location, but here he was) so asking the locals it is.

He wasn’t going to message Victor, he wasn’t an idiot - if he found out that Yuri was looking for him, then the man would probably find a way to send him back. Yuri stood a better chance finding him first and  _ then  _ try to convince him in person. 

He has money, he doesn’t need much else to make it, right? So what if he’s obviously a foreigner, if Japanese a language that sends his tongue in knots and can barely pass as ‘fluent’. Money does the talking wherever you go.

 

(he doesn’t find Victor)

 

It’s not like he has a reason to do it.

He’s not depressed, he’s not suicidal, he’s not  _ weak.  _ He’s strong, isn’t he? He’s traveled halfway across the world alone, he’s seen his mother dyed red besides him in a broken car. He’s  _ Yuri Plisetsky,  _ and  _ he is strong.  _ It’s others who are weak, and he needs to prove to them just how much he means to them.

Or, at the very least, that’s what he tells himself on the wrong side of the railing.

The backpack goes first, as he winds it up slowly with a bruised arm before flinging it as far as it could go. It’s unzipped, and it’s contents fly out, a combination of yen and ruble bills dancing in the night before Yuri closes his eyes and feels the cloudless sky rain down his face. When he opens them again, they are gone. 

As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket and he’s surprised that he didn’t throw that away first. Nonetheless, after a moment of hesitation, he presses the home button and the shattered glass lights up.

 

_ [ old man t(- n -)t ] _

_ [ 23:47 ] where are you? _

_ [ 23:47 ] i heard you ran away. did you come to japan after me? _

_ [ 23:48 ] that was stupid. _

_ [ 23:48 ] if you don’t respond, i’m gonna call the authorities. _

_ [ 23:49 ] please be alright... _

He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, and after a moment’s pause, he snaps a picture of himself flashing a peace sign and sends a message to Victor.

 

_ [ 23:52 ] come and find me, dipshit~ _

 

With that, he pockets the phone and, inhaling, takes a step forward--

\--only to have someone grab his hoodie behind him and pull him back.

 

(and it’s wrong, it’s wrong it’s so wrong because he grabbed at his hair,  _ her  _ hair, and he didn’t even care)

 

At first they’re riding a bicycle that can hardly be  _ called  _ that, the metal dented and rusted away to the point that Yuri wonders what’s actually holding it together, and suddenly he knows the reason for all the scrapes the boy with him possesses. He briefly plays with the idea of what would be a better way to go - off the bridge or falling off this bike onto the hard concrete below him - but he doesn’t have to play with it long because the boy pulls to a stop next to a library’s parking lot and, after a moment’s hesitation, grabs one of the motorcycle’s parked there.

“Is that yours?” He asks, but the boy doesn’t respond. “Oh my God.”

“G-get on, alright?” The boy’s voice is flush with embarrassment, and Yuri finds it absolutely  _ hilarious.  _

“I bet I can handle this better than you.” He says, and jumping onto the motorcycle, he lets the boy grip onto the back of his hoodie as the motorcycle hums to life. 

He feels safe.

 

(he introduces himself as Minami, and somehow his ever-lasting grin balances out Yuri’s ever-lasting scowl)

 

They find themself in a public park after the carnival, the stick cotton candy still laying heavy on Yuri’s tongue as they run across the wet grass and into a lake, the shirt that Minami quite literally  _ just  _ bought him already getting soaked at the edges. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes it off, wearing nothing but jeans that press onto his skin all too uncomfortably, and  _ breathes _ .

Minami laughs and splashes him with the lake’s water and he splashes back, unable to resist the childish temptation. The water soothes the purple paint on his skin, making it wash away in all ways but the literal one.

At some point, the birds around them draw closer in curiosity, and the two of them begin to chase them. They squawk indignantly and flap great big wings to scoot further away, still watching from a distance nonetheless as Yuri flips them off.

Minami gasps and pouts. “What’d those poor birds do to deserve  _ that  _ from you?” 

He laughs and laughs and  _ laughs,  _ and for the first time in a long time Yuri realizes he’s feeling truly happy.

 

(and it’s all thanks to a stranger he’s just met)

 

Living with Minami is something tentative - something that makes Yuri nervous, more so than he’d like to admit. First off, there’s the fact that his sister isn’t exactly  _ loving  _ his presence there, but at the very least he’s not taking up much space by sleeping on the couch and he cleans the dishes every night (albeit not very well but he’s never had to clean any dishes in his life before so she can fuck off). But...besides all that, it’s strange.

It’s strange being in an environment where dinner is warm and lit by candles and the conversation flows naturally instead of cold porcelain plates and tall hand-blown glasses with words that feel more choked out than anything else.

They don’t care if he swears, and so he does freely (almost  _ too  _ freely, Minami’s sister remarks) and happily, though it may seem otherwise.

So it’s strange when he feels a buzzing in his pocket from a phone he keeps on his person more out of habit than anything else, and hurriedly, he excuses himself to the bathroom to take a shit.

Victor has texted him for the first time since that night, and Yuri swallows, a lump in his throat as a picture taken of him shopping for leopard print hoodies with Minami glares at him through the shattered screen with a ‘found you!!~~’ accompanied with it.

_ im fine but dont you dare tell pops where i am ill fuckin kill you  _

It’s a plea more than anything else.

But Victor agrees.

It’s definitely strange, he thinks while returning to his seat at dinner. 

 

(but he thinks he likes it)

 

He’s basically half asleep, laying on the couch with a book covering his face when there’s the announcement on the radio, listing off his father’s name covered in glitter and sparkles and all other sorts of fantastic things. 

And then  _ Yuri Plisetsky  _ is spoken about, a word of how he’s been spotted in the Hiroshima Prefecture and how if anyone has any sort of information on him, they should alert the authorities  _ immediately  _ because the poor father is worrying himself sick, isn’t he? God help him.

He’s almost chuckling from the absurdity of it all, a  _ chortle  _ rising up in his throat when he remembers--

Minami’s in the room with him.

The laughter dies as Minami cracks an awkward joke about something to do with cheerios and princes and shuts off the radio. 

Yuri doesn’t look in his direction. 

 

(but Victor promises,  _ promises  _ that it wasn’t his fault when Yuri angrily texts him and Yuri’s left dumbfounded and worried)

 

He helps with making dinner, it’s only  _ cordial  _ after all because they’re taking him into their home without a word and letting him  _ live  _ there. It’s almost (very) surreal, how kind they are to him when he’s done nothing to deserve it.

It’s this thought process that causes him to cut himself when cutting some vegetables, the pain ricocheting through the tip of his finger and eliciting (to his great shame) a small cry from his lips. 

He covers it up with swears galore but it’s too late, cause Minami is already running towards him and nursing his finger with a tutting noise, and then--

_ Minami fucking kisses his finger. _

Yuri jerks away, his face furiously red as his heart convulses awkwardly in his ears, and this sudden feeling is  _ so _ strange, not at all like the romance novels he picked on a whim cause it’s awkward and it’s painful and it’s.

“Are you alright?” Minami asks awkwardly.

“‘m fine. You don’t need to worry.” Yuri chokes out, his breath gone.

 

(the kiss haunts him, in his sleep, in his dreams, and it makes him so  _ frustrated  _ how Minami seems to be so damn unaffected by the whole thing and yet here he is doubling over himself)

 

It’s absentmindedly that he searches up the name ‘Victor Nikiforov’, something he doesn’t actually recall doing which is  _ incredibly  _ strange, considering how many years he had the man as a tutor, but here he was.

And it’s that way that he stumbles upon Victor’s Instagram page, the obnoxious face set as an icon and an equally obnoxious list of the man’s achievements in his profile description. Yuri snorts - it’s almost painful to read.

But what  _ is  _ painful is the obnoxious tumbling of his heart when he sees a photo posted of Victor kissing another man’s face, holding up his hand to the camera with a blatant accessory adorning his middle finger.

_ he said yes!!!!!!~~~~~  _ reads the description, and Yuri is tempted to shatter his phone screen even further.

It only takes a quick checking of who’s tagged in the photo to find out the name of the other man (it’s  _ Katsuki Yuuri,  _ and he’s fucking  _ pissed  _ because there’s only  _ one Yuri allowed)  _ before he pulls up Victor’s contact and angrily texting the man.

He replies almost immediately.

 

_ [ old man t(- n -)t ] _

_ [ 13:49 ] oh, havent you heard?? _

_ [ 13:49 ] i’ve been dating this boy for  _ months  _!! it’s been all over the news _

_ [ 13:50 ] have you seriously not heard?? im wounded, really, i am!! ((o(;△;)o)) _

_ [ 13:50 ] theres another ‘yuri’ in my life, now!!! you’ve gotta pick up the slack! _

 

The only response that Yuri gives is a half-hearted  _ ‘piss off’  _ before he turns off his phone and stares at the ceiling. 

Man, he wished he had a boyfriend.

(he already hates this… _ Katsuki Yuuri _ )

 

It’s when he’s jolting awake at 2 am from yet another nightmare, sweat drenching his brow, that the thought comes to him.

Minami’s across the room, sleeping on the new second couch they bought with a blanket over his frail,  _ frail  _ shoulders and golden swath of hair drenched over his forehead. Yuri has the absolute  _ perfect  _ view of the boy from where he lies down, and a perfect view of…

...his lips.

Those lips that kissed his finger, that caused his heart to fumble awkwardly and that feeling he  _ craves desperately,  _ even now.

He barely realizes that he’s out from under his own covers before he’s halfway across the room, and he freezes in a cold sweat.

_ Were you really about to kiss someone in their sleep? You don’t even have the courage to ask them when they’re awake. You have to take advantage of them, don’t you? Take advantage of other people. _

_ Like your father. _

He winces.

_ How disgusting. What a coward. _

 

(he creeps back to the couch and wishes he was dead, almost)

 

It’s literally the  _ next fucking night  _ that he awakes once more, not from a nightmare but from a pounding on the door to the apartment. 

He’s tempted to get up, to investigate who would  _ dare  _ wake him from his slumber before the voices register and he freezes.

_ Yuri Plisetsky  _ and  _ daughter of this great guy  _ and  _ seen here  _ and oh no Minami’s gonna sell him out isn’t he? He has no reason not to and he’s just this random kid that he picked up from the wrong side of a bridge and now that the makeshift rehab is over they’re gonna send him back overseas because why the fuck not, right, he’s just some kid that no one really wants the responsibility of taking care of it’s not like he makes that much money his dad will certainly give a reward to Minami and damn, doesn’t he need it with the shape that this house is in wasn’t Yuri supposed to clean the bathroom today he forgot to do that he’ll certainly sell him out after that  _ he will-- _

“Yuri.” Minami whispers, awkwardly stroking his shaking shoulders. “It’s alright. They’re gone now.”

After a moment’s pause, Yuri shoves Minami away, red face hidden as he pulls the covers up around him “Fuckin’ thought so. Go the hell to bed. Do you know what time it is?”

 

(the nightmare the next night is a thousand times worse than before, because Minami and Victor are both dead and he’s so immeasurably  _ happy  _ when he wakes up and Minami’s making breakfast that he cries when he brushes his teeth)

 

The move is sudden, and they don’t bring along Minami’s sister (much to her disapproval) which  _ surprises  _ Yuri, admittedly, but he’s not one to question the circumstances when they benefit him

The nightmares subside a bit after moving, now that there’s only one very large bed and there’s another source of warmth next to him at night.

He lays as stiff as a board.

 

(but he sleeps, and that’s good enough)

 

Yuri doesn’t particularly like working in the wee hours of the morning at a gas station, but he sure as hell isn’t going to complain when the only other person on shift is Minami. Conversation flows best at 2 am, it seems, and with the one free soda that they’re each allowed to per shift they manage to keep each other awake on some tired drive of caffeine.

“Do you ever think of leaving?”

The question is innocent but, nonetheless, Yuri freezes up.

“Fuck no.” He spits without a moment’s hesitation.

“I mean, not going back there.” Minami hurriedly covers up. “I mean just...leaving to live on your own. You’re almost eighteen, right? And you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself, on your own. So why are you sticking around me?”

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he considers the question, unable to come up with a dismissive answer without seeming all too rude and like  _ hell  _ he’s gonna be all squishy-mushy with his feelings. He’s not that kind of person. He’s--

\-- _ all too close to Minami’s face. _

He pulls away in surprise, face red and flushed as he balls up his fists and glares at Minami in shock.

“Sorry.” Minami breathes, and pulls away, embarrassed. “That...that was impulsive of me. I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.”

The rest of their shift resides in an awkward silence. 

 

(he wishes he didn’t pull away)

 

He doesn’t wake up from a nightmare tonight, and at first he’s grateful but when he walks in on Minami sleeping on the keyboard of a wikipedia page dedicated entirely to some person called  _ Yuri Plisetsky,  _ he wishes that he had.

His words come before his thoughts, his hands running through his hair as he begins to spit acid at the sleeping boy, who groggily wakes up with the noise. It takes too long for him to realize exactly what’s happening, which only pisses Yuri off more, but when he does his pupils dilate and his shoulders tense up in awkward fear.

Yuri’s the one who should be scared here, not him, the fucker.

“N-no.” Minami stutters, sitting up with a keyboard’s imprint on his cheek. “I...I was just curious--”

“So! It didn’t even occur to you to ask me yourself? About why I’d leave someplace like that when I was loaded to the brim?! Huh!” Yuri’s sweating now, pulling his hand down his face and glancing frantically around the room, as if his father will suddenly materialize from the walls and grab his shoulders and simply run off with him. “How much is ol’ Pops offering? Can you count how many  _ zeroes _ there are? Or is you shitty traitor ass able to comprehend numbers as much as it can comprehend trust? Huh?”

“I...I wasn’t going to sell you out. I... promise… ” 

Yuri doesn’t want to hear it.

“Oh, I’ve been promised a ton of shit. You’re lucky that all I’ve got right now are the clothes on my back and that I’m in your debt, ‘cause otherwise I’d be leaving this place tonight. ”

 

(of course this would happen he knew it he shouldn’t have trusted anyone here he was bound to be alone once again, he’s a fucking fool)

 

It’s a gradual change, as he takes the motorcycle out on spins more out of habit and comfort than anything else. It feels safe, comfortable on it - something he’s afraid he won’t feel anywhere else. He only leaves for a couple hours at a time, not daring to be gone longer in fear of what’ll happen to  _ him. _

One night, though, he just doesn’t go back.

It’s with a subtle self-loathing that he messages Victor, asking the old man where he is and if he can pick him up cause  _ damn he needs someone to live with. _

 

_ [ old man t(- n -)t ] _

_ [ 23:33 ] oh dear i’m so so sorry! _

_ [ 23:33 ] i’m a little too far away to pick you up _

_ [ 23:33 ] i’m all the way back in RUSSIA~~~~~~~~ _

_ [ 23:34 ] if you come back, you’re more than welcome to live with me and yuuri!! <3  _

_ [ 23:34 ] you’ll love him! _

 

Yuri swallows and turns the phone on sleep mode angrily, getting on the motorcycle once again and flying away.

 

(the phone buzzes in his pocket one last time, but he does not reply to that message)

 

He sits on the right side of the bridge, not sure if Minami will actually come and get him. It was a wild gamble, one that was, frankly, an idiotic one looking back on it all because this wasn’t some cliche romance novel where all the pieces fall into place  _ just so  _ just ‘cause they want it too and love doesn’t necessarily triumph over all. They’re both imperfect, and they’re both fools.

But Minami shows up anyway, with torn shorts and scabbed knees and a broken bike and Yuri  _ laughs  _ and  _ laughs  _ as he falls clumsily, trying to make his way over to the boy. Minami tries to apologize, somehow, but Yuri interrupts.

“You know, I heard the policemen that time.”

“Oh.”

The silence is  _ painfully  _ awkward, and Yuri glances over behind him at the river. At night, it was beautiful, but now the garbage is shown in the sun’s light and Yuri wonders that, if he had jumped, would his corpse add onto that filth as well? 

It’s an unpleasant thought, to say the least.

“Y’know, when I was. There.” He fumbles with his words, unsure how to place it all properly. “When I was about to jump. I wanted to die, but, like, not really.”

“That...doesn’t make sense.”

“No, I mean, I did want to die, I just-” Yuri breathes a sigh of frustration, his teeth whistling. “I kind of wanted to die for just a little while, like a week or so, and then come back and see everyone again and it’d be like the ultimate ‘psyche’, y’know?”

“Not really.”

Yuri laughs, unsure of how to start it all off. “Yeah, some fuckin’ idiot like you wouldn’t get it.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the message he’s yet to reply to in a pathetic attempt to stall time. “I’m not going back to Pops.” He states firmly, trying to make that clear from the get go. “Not now, not ever. Or, not at least I’m, like, 25, you know? Or when he’s on his deathbed and dying. Anyway.

“I’ve got some friends, back there, though. Or, singular ‘friend’, I should say. I’m sure you’ve heard of Victor Nikiforov? Or maybe not. You’re not the kind of person to be into foreign shit.” Ah, fuck. He’s tearing up, now, isn’t he? Get your shit together. “Point is, I’m a long way from home, and I’m thinking of going back to Russia. Live with Victor and his shitty boyfriend, this other guy named Yuuri.” He snorts. “And I kinda wanna take my own. Uh.” He clears his throat and pulls at the neck of his shirt, feeling his face heat up. “My own...uh... significant person. Cause, like, for the past - what, almost year now? W-we’ve hung out and stuff, lived together, and, like, I don’t know how you feel about this whole fucked up ordeal but--”

He doesn’t know how to feel when Minami pulls him down by the collar of his shirt and suddenly there’s nothing but fireworks of red and gold exploding in the lids of his eyes and he tastes stars.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (note: zvyozdochka roughly means 'little star' in russian and is used as an affectionate name by someone close to you)
> 
> this took me a while !! i'm not quite as happy with this as i am with the first fic in the series but here we are
> 
> i've been trying to experiment with really telling the story from a specific character's point of view - in the sense that there's information that they interpret differently from other characters, and that they don't want to reveal things about themself to others in some things, etc
> 
> the next fic in the series will be more victor centric and be quite a drastic change from the minami/yuri story we've been going through so far!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this nonetheless!


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